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Saturday, June 3, 2017

Who the Hell was it?

I’m breathless with excitement.

Literally twenty minutes ago, I was here...

at Mel Gibson’s pub up on the mountain, having lunch with Scotto… and now I’m back home and feeling very distracted. 

I saw an actual celebrity at lunch!

When I say ‘Mel Gibson’s Pub’, I don’t mean it’s actually Mel Gibson’s pub. 

My mother told me that Mel Gibson used to live there with his large family and sold it and whoever bought it turned it into a pub. We’ve since asked the staff there and they say my mother was talking rubbish. 

Apparently Mel Gibson came and looked at the property about twenty years ago but never bought it. I don’t even know if that’s bullshit or not to tell the truth. Anyway, we still call it Mel Gibson’s pub which is a much better name than the Eagle Heights Hotel (which is what it’s called).

So we were just sitting waiting for our bruschetta at Mel Gibson’s pub, when a helicopter started circling the sky above us and began its descent to the helipad at the back of the beer garden.

“It might be a celebrity,” I commented as I sipped my piccolo of champagne. “Maybe it’s Mel Gibson. Wouldn't that be ironic?”

“Maybe it’s Schapelle Corby!” quipped Scotto dryly.

I shrugged. Who cares about that flibbertigibbet?

Our meals arrived and we tucked in.

As I was chewing through my bread, a particularly tall and handsome, bronzed man strutted past us, accompanied by a short man in a uniform, a woman and two children. 

They’d clearly just alighted from the helicopter.

“God, he’s a bit handsome,” I said as I ruminated on a piece of lettuce.. “I think he’s so damn handsome he must be famous.”

“I think he’s the helicopter pilot,” munched Scotto.

“Hell of a handsome helicopter pilot then,” I masticated loudly. 

“I wouldn't mind flying his helicopter,” I added surreptitiously into my glass.

The Nordic God-like creature walked into the bar area and out of sight.

“If you go and ask that handsome man who he is I’ll give you five dollars,” I challenged Scotto whilst chomping on my tomato and fetta. “He was so handsome he has to be a celebrity from America or something.”

“I think you can stop saying handsome so much,” Scotto gnawed on a chip.

“Who can it be?” I shrilled. “He had two kids... and a rather plain wife, don't you think? I wonder who it could be?”
The handsome man suddenly emerged from the bar with the man in uniform, who was the actual (rather unattractive) helicopter pilot.

“It’s bloody Jon Snow!” I blurted out in a not so quiet voice.

I saw the handsome man falter in his step and glance over at our table.

It definitely wasn’t Jon Snow because this guy was tall and light-haired and bloody handsome as.

I just couldn’t think of any other actors at the time. I hope he didn’t hear me because I might have hurt his feelings saying he was Jon Snow.

He sort of looked like a tall, long-haired Christopher Pine/Chris Hemsworth and he looked like he had a bit of money what with the helicopter and all.

God, we arrived in Scotto’s Veloster and I thought THAT was flash.

Who arrives to lunch in a helicopter except really, really famous people?

Does anyone on the Gold Coast have any idea who it could have been? I'm quite desperate to know. 

It's not fair seeing a celebrity when you don't know who it is.